A Heist for Pandora
by Ichabod Ebenezer
Summary: Nth Doctor part 1 of 12. The Doctor has regenerated again, but this time the events surrounding his death have caused him to question why he does what he does. He meets a new companion, and despite his better wishes, he gets involved in a bank robbery that may turn out to be much more than that. I made up the character, but he's still the Doctor, and I don't own the rights.
1. Pandora

The Tardis touched down in the heart of a park in central London in the middle of the night. After a few moments, the doors opened. Smoke billowed from the interior, and a man staggered out into the doorway. He was of average height, with dirty blonde hair. He was coughing and clutching at his throat. "No!" he yelled, and went into another coughing fit. "Not again!" he gasped when it was over.

He took off his jacket and began fanning the smoke with it, then he paused and took a good look at the jacket. In a fit of rage he threw it to the ground. He paused for a moment, then tore the tie off and threw it onto the ground as well. "No more!" he growled.

He looked down at his chest, panting visibly. He ripped his shirt off, heedless of the buttons that popped off. "No, no, no, no, no!" He threw the shirt to the ground as well, then turned around and slammed the doors to the Tardis. "Never again!" he yelled, and punched the door, then stood breathing heavily. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and his breath came out in short puffs visible in the cool night air.

Finally he looked down at his half naked body. He tried to calm himself and said more quietly, but still shakily, "No more." That only lasted a moment though, because his shoes suddenly seemed to offend him. He grabbed one foot with both hands and hopped backward awkwardly as he pulled it off. He threw his shoe at the Tardis and it bounced off harmlessly. He took off his other shoe and threw that too, this time missing as it sailed clear over the light on top.

He looked down and started frantically unbuttoning his pants. He kicked them off, then dropped his boxers too.

The man stood naked, panting in the moonlight, staring accusingly and defiantly at the Tardis.

* * *

James and Carlie spread out a checkered blanket on the grassy area outside the playground. James set down the basket and knelt next to it. He opened the lid and pulled away the Velcro straps holding the plates in place. He handed them to Carlie, and she set each of the four plates on one of the corners of the blanket to keep it in place during the occasional gusts of wind.

"How long do you suppose we have before Morgan and her friend will get hungry?" James asked.

"Don't know," Carlie said, shading her eyes and watching the two children chase each other, then abruptly stop, sit on the teeter-totter for three or four turns before getting off again and resuming chase. "If it were me running around like that, I'd be famished already, but we'll most likely have to call for them before they'll come over here."

"That's exactly what I was thinking when I had the foresight to bring this along." He smiled broadly and turned around to reveal a bottle of sparkling wine and two flutes.

Carlie smiled. "Oh, James," she laughed. She accepted one of the glasses.

He twisted the top off the wine bottle, enjoying the cracking metal sound of the seal breaking, and poured some wine in her glass first, then his. He raised his glass, then said solemnly, "To the calm before the storm."

The couple clinked glasses and raised them to their lips, but before they drank, a nearby voice said, "Excuse me."

They looked up and saw a naked man standing uncomfortably close. They both instinctively stood up and took a step backward.

"Thank you," the naked man said. "If I could just borrow this..." He knelt down and grabbed their blanket. He whipped it quickly up and toward himself, leaving all four plates in the same position. He wrapped the blanket around himself and tied it up over one shoulder, looking like a checkered toga.

The two of them were stunned into silence, but Carlie started reaching out with her hand until she felt James', and the two stepped closer together, holding their glasses in front of them.

"Please, carry on," the man said with a smile, then he turned and walked out toward the busy streets of central London.

* * *

The Doctor wandered the city. There is something to be said for acting as if you belong. There were a few people who stared, even one who narrowly avoided an accident, but for the most part, they soon shook their heads and went on with their day. "Performance art," they would decide. Or a dare, or a publicity stunt. "Anyone stops to talk to him, he'll probably hand you a flier for that new Italian place," one man told his wife after they passed on the street.

He stopped to watch a couple men in overalls attempt to lift an upright piano up a flight of stairs only to discover it wouldn't turn past the door. He chuckled to himself and walked on.

He breathed in the air, which couldn't have been perfectly pleasant in downtown London, but he seemed pleased by it.

A man walked toward him, carefully avoiding eye contact. As they closed, the Doctor said, "Excuse me, but have you noticed how much that cloud resembles a rubber duck?" He pointed high in the sky, and as the man squinted up to look, the Doctor removed the man's sunglasses from his suit pocket and palmed them.

"There's not a cloud in the sky, you lunatic," the man said with obvious contempt.

"Beg pardon, sir," the Doctor responded. "It was there a moment ago." The two turned and continued in opposite directions, the Doctor deftly putting on the sunglasses.

He wandered for a while more, until a police car passed, then put on the brakes. He decided to duck down a nearby alley, choosing discretion over valor. He quickened his pace and headed for the other end of the alley. When he realized it was the A4 ahead. He stopped. He looked up to where he knew the sign would be and found that he was standing in Angel Court. "Between the Lions, Golden and Red, Simon is sleeping, though not in his bed," he said to himself. Suddenly, he was startled by the sound of a can clattering on the pavement off to one side. He turned and peered into the darkness.

A voice called out to him, "Just keep moving, Sunshine. Don't need your brand of crazy raising the average 'round here."

The Doctor removed his sunglasses to look for the source of the voice, and could just make out a woman sitting atop a couple crates nearby. "Sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to disturb you." A nearby shadow moved, and as it came closer, the Doctor saw it was a mastiff. He knelt down as it approached, and extended his hand so it could smell him. The dog sniffed at him, then started licking his fingers. The Doctor scratched him behind the ears.

"Hmm," the woman said, jumping down off the crates and coming closer. "He likes you. He never likes anyone."

"What's his name?" the Doctor asked.

"Obelix," she replied. Now that she had stepped out into the light, the Doctor could see she was little more than a girl, maybe 16 or 17 years old. "From those old French comics." The girl had blonde hair with a chunk at the right fringe bleached silvery-white. She had brown eyes and wore thick eyeliner. She wore a brown canvas jacket with a faux fur collar over a rainbow striped sweater. She had cut-off jeans over dark leggings and Ugg boots to mid-calf. On her hands were woolen gloves with the fingers cut off to reveal her black nail polish.

"You read old French comics?" the Doctor asked, squinting up at her.

"No," she responded. "He's not my dog. I'm watching him for a friend." She squatted down and patted the dog. "He's Swedish," she said, as if that explained everything.

The two of them were quiet for a while as they gave the dog some much appreciated attention.

"Why aren't you wearing any clothes?" she finally asked the Doctor.

The Doctor was quiet for a while, and just as she decided that he wasn't going to answer, he did. "You ever have one of those moments, where you realize that the clothes you are wearing are sort of like a costume? And it's like they are for a character that you are sick of playing?"

Her look was far away, and a smile poorly hid her pain. "Yeah. Suppose I have."

"Bet you have, at that. Well, that feeling hit me pretty hard last night, and I felt like I'd rather be naked than to wear some other bloke's clothes. They weren't me. They weren't who I wanted to be." He grabbed the dog by both ears and pulled them back gently, smoothing out the wrinkles of its face. The dog sneezed and shook free of the Doctor's grip. "Not anymore, anyway."

They were silent again for a while, each one deep in their own thoughts.

The Doctor broke the moment. He stood up and extended his hand. "I'm called the Doctor. I'm on holiday. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?

"Pandora," she said, and shook his hand. "So, your a Londoner, on holiday in London... naked?"

"Oh, I'm not from London," the Doctor said with a broad smile.

"Coulda' fooled me. Accent's spot on."

The Doctor nodded, still smiling. He looked out onto the busy street of Pall Mall. From where he stood, he could just see an Armored Transport parked, but with its blinkers on and wheels edged out, trying to merge. He watched it for a while as the rare friendly driver made an opening for it and it pulled out. Shortly after, a black SUV took the spot it had vacated. Within moments, all but the driver's door opened, and three large muscular men stepped out. As soon as they closed the doors, the driver pulled back out into traffic.

The Doctor turned away.

"Tell me," he said. "Did your parents really name you Pandora?"

She scoffed. "You're one to ask. Your parents name you, 'The Doctor'?"

"Fair enough. Forget I asked."

She seemed to make up her mind about something. She gave a high short whistle and the dog stood up and trotted over beside her. "Come on," she said. "Let's get you some clothes."

She pushed a button on a junction box stuck to the wall next to her crate. There was an electric whirring sound, and a section of the paving split in half and opened up. A lift started to rise through the opening. Pandora saw the questioning look the Doctor was giving her and preempted the question. "There's an absolute maze of tunnels under London. Shops use them to bring inventory into their cellars. If you don't know where you are going, you could end up lost for days. If you do though, you can get just about anywhere in London without being caught on Her Majesty's Secret Cameras. For all I know, my mum is still looking for me, and everyone says they've got facial recognition on those things, looking for terrorists and missing kids, so I try not to be seen if I can avoid it. And you can do avoiding those cameras too, the way you're dressed. Likely to get arrested." The lift stopped when it reached street level, and Obelix padded over to it and sat down. "Come on," Pandora said again and got on.

Once they got below ground, there were brick facades to the buildings on either side. Metal doors were spaced apart for the various businesses that used this alley, and there was dim led lighting near each entrance. She led the way up one block, then turned left, down a few blocks before turning right for one block and turned left again. Halfway down was another lift. When they ascended, they were next to a donation station behind the library. "They only pick up twice a week. By Thursday there are always a few bin bags piled around." She tore into one that turned out to be mostly full of kids clothes. She set it aside and ripped open another that had men's wear. "There you go."

He picked through the lot, setting one after another on top of the other bags. He settled on a hoodie sweater first, throwing it over his shoulder, then some sweat pants and finally a t-shirt. He pulled out a brown shoe lacking laces and held it up to his left foot. He wiggled his toes just past the end, and set it on top of the pile of discarded clothing. "That's okay. I'll pick up a pair later."

He untied the blanket and let it drop. Pandora gasped and turned around. He pulled on the sweat pants, and she glanced back around at him. She tried to think of something to talk about other than how naked he just was, and finally asked, "What does your tattoo mean?"

He looked up from the knot he was tying in the pants. "I didn't know I had one. Haven't had a chance to look yet. What does it look like?" He checked both arms then twisted around, looking for one.

"It's kind of a question mark, over your right shoulder, but there's something tribal about it. Celtic, or Maori or something."

"Awesome," he said, "Been a while since I had a tattoo."

"Um, aren't tattoos permanent?" she asked.

"They last a lifetime," he confirmed. Suddenly he fell to his knees and began coughing. He seemed to gag, and when he opened his mouth, straining, a cloud of bright yellow sparks floated out and slowly dispersed like a swarm of glowing gnats that winked out as they went.

"Whoa, Doctor," Pandora said, approaching cautiously and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Okay, what did you take? I've never seen anyone sick up like that before."

"It's okay," he said, holding a hand out. "I guess I'm not done regenerating yet." He seemed a bit better, and stood back up. He quickly pulled the t-shirt over his head and slipped his arms into the hoodie.

She was suddenly anxious to get back to Angel Court. "The Swede will be back any time now for his dog. Let's get back." She gave a high whistle again, and Obelix obediently walked back to the lift and sat.

The Doctor folded up the blanket he had been wearing, and joined them.

* * *

They got back to Angel Court, the A4 buzzing past just South of them. Pandora jumped back up to sit on the crate where the Doctor had first found her. Obelix stopped and sat next to the Doctor. Even sitting, the dog's head was well over the Doctor's hip. He reached over and patted its head. Looking out into the street, he saw the same SUV back again. It pulled to a stop, double-parked in mid-day traffic. The men from before quickly got into the car, and it pulled away. This time the Doctor noticed the man in the shotgun seat had a military tattoo on his right arm.

"I'm on holiday," he said quietly to himself as he watched the SUV go past. "I've got no reason to get involved... It's somebody else's problem." He looked instead at the dog, who was currently looking up at him and panting happily.

"Tell me, Pandora, have you ever opened a bank account?"

"No..." she laughed, "Why?"

"Well, I... want to do something to repay you for the clothes."

"You mean the clothes you just stole, that didn't belong to me?"

"Yeah, exactly. And don't bother, I won't take no for an answer. There's just a couple things I need to get first. I left them by my ship."

"You have a ship?"

"Yeah. My spaceship. I left it over in Hyde Park. I really should grab my stuff before someone notices."

"Of course you've got a spaceship." She laughed. "That explains a lot. But tell me, you left a spaceship in Hyde Park, and you think no one has noticed yet?"

"Oh yeah. Totally innocuous, my Tardis. Come on, I'll show you."

"Can't. Dog sitting, remember?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'll grab my stuff and meet you back here."

"Sure thing, spaceman. See you later," she said, putting up one hand with her fingers splayed in a 'V'. She watched him leave.

* * *

The Doctor returned to Hyde Park and dropped the blanket off where he had taken it from, the picnickers being gone. He weighed it down with stones in place of the plates.

He crossed the park to where the Tardis was still standing, now with a couple bicycles leaning against it. There were a couple sunbathers laying in the grass nearby.

His clothes were scattered around a bit, tossed by the wind, but there were only a few things he was interested in. He found his old jacket and pulled his sonic screwdriver out of the breast pocket. Then he reached into the hacking pocket and took out his psychic paper. He pulled the Tardis key from an inside pocket and dropped the jacket on the grass.

He walked up to the Tardis and paused before placing his fingertips on the door. He could feel the faint hum of the idling beast, his best and longest friend. He held them there for several moments then let them slide slowly down. "No more," he whispered. He inserted the key, locked the door and turned his back on the Tardis.

On a whim, he stopped by his pants and turned out the pockets. He pulled out a yo-yo, a draftsman's compass, and a bag of sweets and shoved all of his belongings into the pockets of his hoodie. He dropped the pants, dusted off his hands and walked away.

* * *

When he returned, Pandora was where he had left her, but without Obelix, and she was reading a small tablet. "You know, these clothes don't really suit me. Would you come with me while I buy some new ones? I'll buy you dinner." He pulled the psychic paper from his pocket and showed it to her.

"You have a credit card? I took you for some homeless nutter," she said. She narrowed her eyes. "Did you take that off somebody?"

"I promise you, it's mine."

She jumped back down off the crate and joined him.

"And you went touring about London starkers when you had cash a-hand?"

"Yup," was all he said. "Should have enough on here for whatever we want though. It's been doing nothing but earn interest since the late-60s, about time I spent some of it. Point me at the nearest mall. Maybe I'll buy you a new outfit too."

Pandora wasn't sure what to make of the Doctor, but she decided that whatever this was, it would be more entertaining than just hanging about. "Sure, okay. Let me grab my stuff first." She turned and walked back to the crate she had been sitting on, pulled it away from the wall, and reached in behind it. Her 'stuff' turned out to be a hemp shoulder bag which she looped over her neck and put the tablet into, and an ornate wooden box, a little larger than a shoe box. It appeared somewhat diamond-shaped from the front, wider in the middle where it was hinged than at top and bottom. It sat on a sturdy rectangular base with a handle on top and a clasp at the front, currently padlocked. All around the sloping sides, both top and bottom, were carved reliefs. The box was stained a mahogany brown and seemed to be fairly heavy from the way she carried it.

"Oh ho!" the Doctor exclaimed. "And this must be Pandora's famous box. I don't suppose you'd open it and give me a glimpse of the evils inside?"

"Funny. All you need to know about this box is it's mine. If we're going to spend any more time together, you need to understand, we don't talk about it, hey?"

The Doctor pursed his lips but nodded. "I'll contain my curiosity. Let's hit up a cashpoint first. I like to deal in cash when possible. There's one right around the corner."

He led the way to the Credit Suisse he'd seen the SUV stop at. Rather than inserting his 'credit card' though, he stowed it in his pocket and pulled out a metal tube, longer and thicker than a pencil with light strips running up half the length. He pointed it at the cashpoint as if it were a magic wand and pressed a button. The light strips glowed green and it emitted a buzzing noise. Seconds later, the cash drawer opened up and bill after bill came out. Once there was a sizable stack, the Doctor turned off his sonic and picked up the cash, stowing both in the pockets of his hoodie.

"Wow. Now that's a lot of dosh. What are you buying, a bespoke tuxedo?"

"Dunno yet. I'm gonna try a few things out, see what fits my style. Shall we?"

The two headed back into the tunnels at Angel Court and after some twists and turns, emerged in Piccadilly Arcade. The Doctor stood for a while studying the mannequins in front of a men's clothier. He slowly looked away, then snapped back around to stare at them. Whatever he was thinking, he ultimately dismissed the shop and walked further along.

He walked straight into a casual clothing store and started leafing though clothes. "Pick something out for yourself," he said to Pandora over his shoulder. He shook out a burgundy pullover and held it up against his chest, then threw it back on top of the stack.

"Oy!" called out one of the shop workers. He walked over and picked up the sweater.

"Sorry," said the Doctor. "I'm rubbish at folding." He pulled out a fifty pound note and set it on top of the clothing pile before moving on to another.

"Don't mention it," said the shop worker, gobsmacked. He picked up the fifty and began folding the pullover.

The Doctor picked up a scarf and threw it around his neck for a bare moment before throwing it back on the table. He moved on to another table filled with hats. He picked up a couple fedoras, alternating between the two before setting them both down. The shop worker began following him from table to table tidying after the Doctor.

Pandora set her box down on a counter and leaned against it, keen to watch.

The Doctor picked up several t-shirts, some he discarded immediately, but others he threw over his shoulder. He moved on to pants, holding them up against his legs and discarding the first several pairs. The pile on his shoulder was getting precarious, so he turned to the shop worker and said, "What's your name?"

Startled, the young man said, "Um, Douglas."

"Douglas, hold these for me, would you?" He pushed them against his chest, and followed up with another couple pair. Before Douglas could respond, the Doctor called out to Pandora. "Do I look like a boxers or briefs man to you?"

Pandora pulled a face and said, "I'm really trying not to picture you in either, right now."

"Ah, commando then, you think?"

Her eyes went wide and she shouted, "Definitely not!"

Douglas spoke up. "Yeah, not if you want to try any of this on..."

"Briefs it is then," the Doctor said and handed a pack to Douglas. "Where is your shoe section?"

After several more minutes of this, he took back all the clothes he had handed to Douglas and stepped into a changing room. Outfit after outfit flew over the divider, starting with the sweat pants from the rubbish bag. Eventually he emerged wearing some rather plain cross-trainers, khaki cargo pants, a graphic tee with DeForest Kelly's face and a quote saying, "Dammit Jim, I'm a Doctor, not an Escalator!" He still had on the hoodie from the donation station.

Pandora laughed.

He looked down at himself, extended his arms and turned around. "What?" he said.

"Well for starters, the 80s wants its pants back."

"Yeah..." the Doctor said with a smile. "You like them? This regeneration, I seem to be all about pockets."

"You mentioned you were from space, you didn't say you were blind as well. And you kept the hoodie?"

"Yeah," he said excitedly. He stuck a hand in the right pocket and lifted it to the side, revealing the interior. "It's got a nice comfy liner, see? And look: More pockets!" There was a standard inside pocket, and a second slim pocket for sunglasses. He unzipped the pocket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. "See? A perfect fit." He put it back and re-zipped it.

"You do realize you're like, forty, right?"

"A tad older than that, but what's your point?"

"You're dressed like a teen-age rebel who hasn't figured things out yet," she said in bemused exasperation.

"Ah. And you think people will be confused. Card me, and things like that. Should I grow a beard, do you think? Ooh! How about a handsome goatee? Tell me, would this face fit a nice goatee? I haven't had a chance to look at it yet. That'd go with the rebel thing! Maybe I _am_ a rebel!" He posed, flipping up his hood and sticking both hands in his pockets, with one leg out at an angle, eyebrows knitted in a dour expression.

"No," she said. Then she shook herself from staring. "And no to the goatee too. I think you've got enough going on already."

* * *

After paying, the Doctor took Pandora to the Red Lion for fish and chips and beer. When their food arrived, they settled in to some conversation.

"So spaceman," Pandora said, "how come you look human? You don't have one of those worm-things in your brain, like in Stargate, do you?"

"You'd be amazed how many species out there look basically human. Skin tones and minor details differ, but not much for the most part."

"Tell me about other worlds. You must have some great stories."

"Oh certainly. And the sights I could show you!" The Doctor leaned in. "I've been to the Singing Towers of Darillium and seen the Firefalls of Grax, I've eaten from the Forbidden Tree of Seradon Six and survived the Nightmare Auroras of Beldora, I've gazed upon the naked wonder of the Medusa Cascade and sailed the Endless Seas of Vericorm Minor. I've climbed the Diamond Cliffs of the First Planet and sifted through the dust of the very last."

"So what brings you to Earth?"

"Oh, this isn't my first time here. Far from it. I've spent a lot of time here. I've met Nero and Ghengis Khan, Shakespeare and Wyatt Earp, I was there when Pompeii blew and when the French revolted. I've fought off Daleks at Canary Wharf and Krynoids in Antarctica. No, I love the people of Earth. It's practically my second home."

"I heard about that Canary Wharf thing. Good show there."

"Thank you."

"So, who's this other guy whose costume you were wearing?"

It took the Doctor a while to answer. He took a long drink of his beer, then set it down. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Just before coming here," he started quietly. Pandora leaned in closely to hear him better. "Just before coming here, I - or rather - this other guy, landed on a planet, Barrophine, in the midst of an invasion. The people of this planet were good, peaceful sorts who wanted nothing more from life than an acre of land to farm, and a decent meal at the end of the day. The ruling family, however was conscripting them into an unwinnable war."

The Doctor took another drink from his beer and swallowed hard. "The Invaders... These Sycorax... They didn't care about any of that. They saw a hard-working happy people and just thought 'slave race'."

"The Barrophino government had converted their factories to building fighter planes, and teaching their people to fly and to kill. But for the Sycorax, that was a way of life. Wave after wave of Barrophinos were blasted from the sky."

"But the reason the Sycorax wanted this planet was for the large deposits of elegium ore, an incredible source of energy that the Barrophinos didn't even know what to do with. I convinced the leadership to repurpose the factories yet again to make a modular defensive barrier using the elegium. Once that was in place, any Sycorax ship that approached the planet was destroyed in the barrier and they quickly retreated to find easier prey."

"Sounds like a win," Pandora said. "What's so bad about that?"

"Yes, it was a win," the Doctor agreed. "For the people of Barrophine at least. But the leadership saw how easily I... How easily this other guy had sent away the invaders and they feared for their own position of power. They gave him no warning. They must have been planning it, and he should have seen it coming, the fool! They blasted him from behind the moment they were sure the Sycorax were gone." The Doctor finished off his beer and set it down with a loud thunk.

After a while, he went on. "My kind... When they die, they regenerate. They get a new face, new body. I've done it before, too many times to mention. But to die, betrayed by the people I've saved..." He trailed off. He broke himself out of the mood he had settled into and returned to the story. "Well, I managed to drag myself back to my Tardis, my spaceship, before I regenerated, and I set the coordinates for London, Earth. Somewhere I've enjoyed my time, people I've enjoyed it with. Somewhere I can forget about duty and other things I've imposed on myself for the sake of people who don't care. I'm on holiday."

"Gotta hand it to you. For a nutter, your delusion is rather consistant."

"Your turn," he said, turning the subject around. "How long have you been on the street?"

"About two years now. But really, it hasn't been so bad the last year or so. I got lucky and hooked up with some people who've been good for me."

"Why'd you run away from your mum?"

Pandora quietly chewed for a while. Finally she swallowed and said, "I don't think I know you well enough to talk about that yet."

The Doctor didn't press her. He started tucking into the remainder of his chips. "Fair enough. Do you at least have somewhere you can stay tonight?"

"Yes, I have a few places I kind of rotate through. Why?"

"Because I don't really have anywhere to stay."

They lapsed into silence again.

"Don't you have a place you can sleep on board your spaceship?"

"Yeah, but she and I aren't on speaking terms right now," the Doctor replied sourly.

"Why is that?" Pandora asked.

Now it was the Doctor's turn to take his time replying. "I don't think I know you well enough to talk about that yet."

After watching the Doctor's expression for a while, Pandora said, "Okay Doctor, I need to ask you my three questions now."

She paused again, and the Doctor raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Have you ever lit anything on fire, just for fun?" Pandora asked, holding up one finger.

"Do sparklers count?" the Doctor asked.

"No."

"Then, no. I haven't."

Pandora held up a second finger. "Do you think that a man and a woman can ever truly be 'just friends'?"

The Doctor chuckled slightly. "I certainly hope so. Otherwise I'm wasting my time."

Pandora nodded, then held up a third finger. "There is a runaway trolley, no driver. It's heading down the tracks straight toward a group of children at play, oblivious. In front of you is a button that will shunt the trolley to another track, but there is currently an old man slowly crossing that track. You only have seconds to act. Do you push the button?"

"No," the Doctor said.

Pandora put her hand down. "Why not?" she asked, a gleem in her eye.

"Because I could never knowingly cause a person's death, even to save another one's life."

Pandora nodded thoughtfully, considering his answer.

The Doctor interrupted her thoughts, "But I wouldn't let the children die either."

"Wait, what? You only have the two choices..." she said, confused.

"Only in the controlled world of the thought experiment. I reject the implicit assertion of the situation: that there is only a binary response possible. Either I act, and cause someone to die, or I fail to act, which is an action itself, causing a group of children to die. I would use my sonic screwdriver to apply the trolley brakes. I would jump onto the trolley to affect it manually, or failing that, jump onto the tracks myself to cause it to derail. I would signal the children so that they would get out of the way in time. In any realistic application of this thought expirement, I would find some way to save them all." The Doctor sat back and let Pandora think on that.

Pandora nodded. "Come on. Pay the man. I'll show you where we're going to spend the night."

* * *

When they were outside, she lead him, by back alleys and underground tunnels again, quite a ways this time, to another alley.

She pointed up to a window on the upper floor with a light on. "It's a seamstress's shop. We just wait here for a bit. She'll be heading home soon, now that it's dark."

When the light went out, she climbed the fire escape with her box in one hand, and peeked inside the window. "Okay, she's gone," Pandora whispered. She pushed the window up.

"I don't use this place all the time. The lady who owns it knows someone stays here, but we've never met. She's left me notes and sometimes even food, and I've never taken anything. As long as she keeps this window unlocked, I assume it's okay for me to stay."


	2. The Heist

In the morning when Pandora woke up, the Doctor was gone, the window was open, and there was a light on by one of the sewing machines. She looked at it a bit closer and found scissors, measuring tape and fabric all out of place. "Oh Doctor, are you trying to get me in trouble?", she asked herself quietly.

"Not at all," his voice called from behind her. The Doctor was just sneaking back in through the window. "I'll leave payment, and a note as well. I couldn't sleep, and I needed to make some alterations to my clothes. Then I got some more cash and did a bit of grocery shopping." He closed the window after stepping inside. "Had a big argument with a clerk who swore I stole a watermelon. He grabbed the store manager and everything. I handed him my basket, threw up my hands, spun around and said, 'I suppose you think I slipped a watermelon into my pocket then?' In the end he had to admit that was unlikely and they let me go. Anyway," he said, reaching into one of his pants pockets, "fancy some watermelon?" With that, he produced an entire watermelon from his pocket.

"How the hell?" Pandora started.

"Spaceman technology," the Doctor said with a smile. "My pockets are bigger on the inside."

"So you stole a watermelon? I thought you just got more cash? Which by the way, I'm pretty sure you stole as well..."

"The money," he said, setting down the watermelon and walking over to the sewing machine, "is for your seamstress friend. And I feel like I'm owed so much already, why should I be paying? You know, if you tally up the number of times I've saved this planet, the odd missing Citrullus lanatus is probably worth it on balance." He pulled out a wad of cash from another pocket and counted out three hundred pounds and laid the bills down on top of the used fabric. He folded the remainder of the still sizable wad and returned it to his pocket.

Pandora shook her head, looking at the wad of cash, "Sometimes, Doctor, I think you are bad news and I should run like hell."

"The money? No! The rest is for the bank later," he said. "You didn't forget, did you?" He picked up the scissors and separated the blades, then turned and walked to where he'd left the watermelon. He plunged one blade deep into the rind and levered it down, cutting the melon neatly in half.

"Oy!" Pandora called. "There's a small kitchen in the next room here. At least use a plate." She opened a door and walked in, returning shortly with two plates, two spoons and a length of paper towels. "Don't go alienating one of the few people who's been kind to me.

"Sorry," he said. He took a plate and put half the melon on it, then took the paper towel and wiped up the juice from the table. He handed the plate to Pandora and put the other half on the other plate. He finished wiping up and took one of the plates back. The two set to work on their melons. "Got some cheese and crackers here too, to round out breakfast," the Doctor said around a mouthful of melon.

They finished eating quickly, and Pandora cleaned up while the Doctor dashed off a note, and they left the seamstress shop by way of window as the rest of London was waking up to this Friday morning.

* * *

"So, off to the bank then?" Pandora asked.

The Doctor looked up at the sun. "There will be plenty of time for that. I'm here on vacation if you'll recall. What do you do around here for fun?"

Pandora studied her feet as they walked, and after a while, she looked shyly at the Doctor and asked, "Is it too lame if I say I like people-watching?"

"People-watching?" he replied.

"Yeah... I like to hang out somewhere public and watch the people going about their ordinary business. I like to imagine lives for them; what they are doing, where they are going. You know, like that."

The Doctor was silent, suppressing a smile and watching her. Pandora started to feel like she'd revealed too much of her inner heart, when the Doctor's smile broke wide across his face. "Paddington's just a few blocks that way," he said, pointing. "Let's go invent some lives."

* * *

Pandora picked a spot on a bench just inside the station.

"Surely we can see more people closer to the platforms?" the Doctor suggested.

Pandora didn't say anything, she just pointed out the security cameras.

"Ah, a dead zone. Understood." She seemed to have a knack for avoiding the cameras. They'd gone surface streets from the seamstress's shop, but avoided facing any directly. The Doctor sat down next to her and reclined, getting as comfortable as one can on a cold metal bench. "So, Pandora, show me how this game is played."

Pandora was ready and she plunged straight into it. "See that man there?" she asked, leaning in conspiratorially and not quite pointing. "He loves his wife desperately, but she's a terrible cook and he would never tell her."

"I see," said the Doctor. "You must have very good vision to make out his wedding ring at this distance."

"I didn't need to see one," she said. "He's got a travel mug clutched in his hand along with the briefcase, but he's also got a Starbucks disposable. She makes him coffee in the morning, but he stops for better stuff before boarding his morning train."

"Ah. A little bit of Sherlock Holmes about you, isn't there."

She shrugged. "You have to be observant to survive on your own out here."

The Doctor just nodded. "What about this guy here?"

Pandora watched a young man in business attire running for a standing train. "Overachiever. Just started a new position and looking for that opportunity to really show his worth. Secretly though, he hates his boss, and it's his job he's after."

The Doctor chuckled. "And you can tell all that just looking at him?"

She smiled. "I'm not above making them up from whole cloth." She sat up a little straighter, looking for another target. "Your turn. Who is she?" She pointed toward a young woman at the bank of phones.

"Easy. She's recently divorced, or widowed. She's just returned to work and doesn't trust her babysitter yet."

Pandora nodded, impressed. "That... was surprising good for a first. How'd you get all that?"

"No one uses a phone booth anymore because everyone has cell phones. She's placing a call this early in the morning, but she's obviously anxiously heading in to work. She's calling to check in at home. So, she has kids and she's new to leaving them behind. She doesn't have a cell because she's used to staying at home."

"Wow. Bit of Mycroft about you," she said. "My turn." She pointed at an older woman leading a string of three children all holding hands. "Harried nanny, she's been tasked with buying groceries, but she can't trust the boy unsupervised." Pandora leaned in closely again. "He's discovered matches."

The Doctor chuckled.

"How about that guy?" Pandora pointed to a greying man waiting on his own on the second platform over. He stood with one hand clasping the wrist of the other.

"Ah, interesting. He is an Atraxi delegate in a mid-price perception filter, here to meet with the Zygon Occupation Ambassador representing Earth."

Pandora laughed. "Both more aliens, I presume? Very 'Men in Black'. But if I were going to pick anyone as an 'Atraxi', I would have picked that one over there." She pointed at a caretaker pulling a wheeled rubbish bin with a broom sticking out. He walked with an odd tick, not quite a limp.

"Are you kidding?" the Doctor responded. "He is clearly a Geldori, scouting this planet for its salt deposits. If I weren't on vacation, I'd probably go dissuade him."

Pandora shook her head, deciding not to comment on that and instead steer them back towards a more comfortable realm of fantasy. "My turn." She picked a pair of gentlemen in matching suits and ties stepping off an arriving train. "US government agents posing as businessmen, but actually spying on the Russian embassy over on Notting Hill."

They carried on like this for a couple hours, watching people and suggesting lives and ascribing motives. The Doctor continued to occasionally point out aliens amongst the humans. Pandora eventually played along and pointed out an alien of her own making.

The Doctor stood up and announced, "I'm hungry again. You figure out who that guy is," he said, pointing at a businessman pretending to read a book, but was instead clearly watching a girl across the tracks. "I'll be back with lunch."

Pandora hunkered down and gave a deep think. Was he a private investigator following a cheating wife? Perhaps he was a stalker creeping on an ex-girlfriend? Finally she decided that he was a hopeless romantic, spending his lunchtime watching this girl and building up the courage over the course of years to finally talk to her. Perhaps tomorrow would be the day.

"Did you know they have a McDonald's in Paddington now?" the Doctor asked as he approached. He handed her a baguette wrapped in paper. "Absolutely criminal," he said, tsking.

He sat on the bench next to her. She made no comment as to her feelings toward Paddington as regards McDonald's.

The two ate in silence for a while, then Pandora let the Doctor know who the book non-reader was. He nodded. "Love a hopeless romantic."

Suddenly the Doctor leapt off the bench and stopped a commuter. "Excuse me, do you have the time?" he asked.

The man examined his watch, "Quarter past one," he said.

The Doctor shook his hand enthusiastically, "Thank you so much sir. Not everyone would have stopped. And might I say, what a smashing suit you are wearing. Tell me, do you know when the next train to Essex is leaving?"

The man unsuccessfully did his best to extricate himself from the Doctor's grip. "I'm sure I don't know. Perhaps you could consult the directory? It's over there next to the clock." He pointed with his free hand at both, clearly visible from where they were standing.

The Doctor said, "Not to worry, thank you very much. My companion and I will find our own way," he said, indicating Pandora, all the while shaking his hand. When the man finally escaped, the Doctor turned back to Pandora and showed off his new watch.

"Like it?" he asked, winding it needlessly.

"Is minor theft going to be a thing with you? First the watermelon, now a watch?"

"Actually first was the sunglasses." He pulled them from where they were hanging on the neck of his t-shirt and put them on. "Also rather striking, eh?" He gave her a view of both left and right sides of his face before taking them off and hanging them back up. "Although they could be a bit more sonic."

Before Pandora had a chance to respond, the Doctor spoke up. "Time to head to the bank. We've got a bit of a walk ahead of us."

"Does it have to be the Credit Suisse?" Pandora asked.

The Doctor smiled. "I trust the Swiss with all my chocolateering and banking needs."

* * *

They made their way back to Angel Court and she stowed her box behind the crate again.

The Doctor looked at his watch, then looked up to see a bank security guard step out into an empty parking space. The armored vehicle was just arriving. "We should go. Now."

"What's the sudden rush?" Pandora asked suspiciously.

The Doctor seemed to break out of his thoughts. "It's Friday. People will be coming off work soon with paychecks to cash and deposit. And if there's one thing I hate, it's standing on line."

"Hmm," Pandora responded, not sure she believed his reasoning. "Okay, let's go."

They walked into the bank and approached a central table. The Doctor picked up a pen attached to a chain and pulled a new account form from its pigeon hole. He handed both of them to Pandora. "I'm afraid it all starts with paperwork."

She looked the form over quickly. "I don't have any I.D., and besides, I'm not putting my real name." She set the pen down across the form.

"Ah," said the Doctor, unzipping his hoodie and removing his psychic paper from an inside pocket. "You won't have to. Remember this credit card?" he said, flipping it open.

Just as she started to answer, he flipped it back closed, handed it around behind his back to his right hand and opened it again. "Now it's my I.D."

"That's a royal recommendation from Prince William!" she said, astonished. She took it from him.

"Actually it's psychic paper. It reads my mind to see what I want to claim, then reads your mind to see what would impress you and prints something up in a language you'll understand."

"It also says you are an immature quitter," she continued.

He took the paper back and looked at it, shocked. He shook it, then handed it back. "Psychic interference from my Tardis. Never mind that, give it a try. Pick a name you want to be. Believe it for a moment, then show me the paper."

She flipped it over and over in her hands. She looked nervous.

He put both hands on hers, stopping her mid-flip. "Go ahead. Pick a name. Something more modern." He gently released her hands, but kept hold of her eyes with his gaze.

She slowly breathed in and finally blinked. She raised the paper to eye level and flipped it open. Before she spoke, she realized the Doctor wasn't paying attention.

He was watching two armored vehicle couriers carrying bags of money out of the bank. They had pistols and batons on their belts as well as handcuffs. He turned to look around the bank lobby. The Doctor and Pandora were at a central table by themselves. There were three other patrons at the teller counter being helped by the three tellers, two other customers were on line behind a velvet rope against the wall. There was a single customer negotiating a home loan at a bank officer's desk with the officer himself. There was a single security agent holding open the door for the couriers. He was armed with a Taser and pepper spray.

"Hey, spaceman," Pandora said, snapping her fingers in front of the Doctor's face. "What's suddenly so interesting?" she asked quietly, watching the couriers load the money into the back of their vehicle. One of them stayed in the back with the money.

"Nothing at all," the Doctor responded quickly. "I'm going to need that back," he said, pulling the psychic paper from her hand. "Did you decide on a name yet?" He picked up the pen again and pressed it into her open palm.

She slammed the pen back down on the form a bit too loudly. A couple other bank patrons turned to look, so she whispered, "What the hell is going on here, Doctor?" She put one hand on her hip and poked his chest with the forefinger of the other. "You only met me yesterday, and suddenly you are so interested in me opening an account, at this specific bank, and this specific time. Then you distract me with this so-called 'psychic paper' of yours but just ignore me when I try to use it."

She paused a moment, searching for what she really wanted to say. "I don't know what you are up to, Doctor, but you are not telling me the truth."

The Doctor was quiet for a moment. "It's actually better if you don't know. I want your reaction to be genuine. Besides, there's always the chance I was wrong," he said and checked his watch.

She swatted his watch arm down. "Forget the time, just tell me what's going on."

"If I tell you, you'll leave. And I need you here."

Pandora stared at him intently, holding his gaze. "I'm not going to leave. I trust you. God knows why, but I trust you. But I need to know why."

The Doctor smiled. "I knew I chose well," he said, more to himself than Pandora.

Just then, the door burst open behind them. Four armed gunmen entered the bank with practiced precision. Two were carrying submachine guns and headed straight for the tellers. "Back away, back away!" they shouted before anyone could raise an alarm.

There was a moment of confused conversation, and a couple abbreviated screams, then everyone hit the ground, including the Doctor and Pandora.

Another one, carrying himself like a leader pushed the security agent to the floor with a shotgun, cocked it and fired a single round into the ceiling tiles. "Hands where we can see them ladies and gentlemen, this is a robbery!"

The last one was carrying a large duffle bag. He threw it on the floor then turned around to put a metal cable tie through the door handles and pulled it tight, locking them in. He turned to face the bank patrons. He tore off the Velcro holding a pistol to his vest and drew it in one practiced motion, then bent down and retrieved the duffle bag.

The man in the lead continued yelling, "The bank is insured, so nothing belonging to you will be stolen. Nobody be a hero, and nobody will get hurt! If I see any cell phones, you will be shot. That was your only warning!"

The duffle man stepped up to the security guard and zip tied his hands behind his back. He removed both the Taser and the pepper spray from his belt and threw them into his duffle bag.

The Doctor stood up, holding his hands up high, his psychic paper clutched in his left hand. "Sorry, but you've got phenomenally bad timing."

"Get on the floor!" yelled the one in charge as he shouldered his shotgun, pointing it at the Doctor.

"The majority of the money just left in an armored vehicle," he continued quickly. "There couldn't be more than 100,000 in the bank right now." He flipped open his psychic paper and continued, "I have 500,000 pounds in my account. I will give it _all_ to you if you leave the bank now. Take me as a hostage. Before the coppers show and someone gets hurt."

The man in charge ran forward and hit him in the face with the butt of his shotgun, knocking him to the floor. "Stay down and shut up!"

One of the men with the machine guns grabbed a teller by the tie and pulled him across the counter. He pulled him to his feet and pushed him toward the open vault. The other machine-gun-man motioned for the other tellers to come out from behind the counter. "Get on the ground!" he commanded, then he walked backward into the vault, pushing the heavy door open wide.

The man in charge pulled a pistol from his vest and stood waving the shotgun in one direction and the pistol in the other, covering all the hostages, while the last one started pulling smaller zippered bags from the duffle and placing them around the bank exterior. As he got to each window he pulled the blinds shut.

The bank officer built up the courage to stand up. "Please! We'll cooperate! Bank policy is to give you anything you want. You don't need to hurt anyone else."

The one in charge shot at the bank officer, putting a bullet in the wall just inches to the right of the officer's head. The man quickly got back down on the ground. "If he speaks again," the gunman said, "put a bullet in his head."

While all four gunmen's attention was elsewhere for a moment, Pandora slid over next to the Doctor to check on him. He pulled his hand away from his nose, and she could see blood running freely from it had stained the top of his shirt red. It might be broken. "What the hell were you doing?" Pandora asked. She dug into her bag and produced a paper napkin that the Doctor held against his nose.

"I needed to verify something," he whispered. "I saw them casing the bank yesterday right after the armored vehicle left, and I wondered about their timing. You case a bank at the time you want to rob it so you see shift changes and such. Why would they hit the bank after the money left?"

He pulled the napkin away from his face and looked at it. It was covered in blood, but it seemed to be slowing. "I had to verify what I suspected: The reason they didn't take my offer of money and a clean getaway is because they aren't after money."

"You knew there was going to be a robbery? And you got me involved instead of doing something to stop it?" she accused.

"I'm sorry, but I need to see what they are after. I suspect that this could turn out to be about so much more than just a robbery. If I have to stop this, I'm going to need help. I couldn't risk that you wouldn't believe me, or worse that you did and chose not to go with me."

She was looking down at her hands. When she looked back, the Doctor's eyes were darting around the room. He had a desperate intensity to his look. "How's your nose?" she finally asked.

"It's fine. Only broken. I think the bleeding is stopping." He pulled the napkin away from his face and held it out to her. She almost took it reflexively, but pulled back her hand. He dropped it instead. "I need to get a look at one of those bags," he whispered urgently, indicating one of the bags next to a nearby window.

"What? Why?" Pandora asked.

"Because unless I'm greatly mistaken, those are bombs. I need you to create a distraction so I can get close."

Pandora felt panic taking her over. "What? No! I can't!"

"Pandora," he said, focusing her attention. "You can. You are strong, and I need you to. People might die today if we do nothing, so why not be awesome instead?" He watched the gunmen for a time when no one was watching, then pushed away from Pandora, inching closer to one of the packages.

"Oh, god!", Pandora said. "I'm going to be sick!"

"Shut up!" yelled the gunman in charge. He approached with his pistol pointed at her. The Doctor rolled several feet closer to the package.

"No, I'm really going to be sick!" Pandora yelled, hyperventilating.

The gunman kept watching. It must have looked real to him because he kicked a rubbish bin over to her, and she wrapped both arms around it, wretching noisily into the bin.

The Doctor unzipped the bag slightly while watching the gunmen. He glanced down at the contents and nonchalantly zipped it back up, rolling across the carpet again until he was just behind the gunman.

Pandora pulled her face out of the bin and wiped it on the back of her arm. "Thank you," she said weakly. She held on tightly to the bin as if she might have to have a go again.

The gunman walked back to where he could see into the vault again.

The Doctor inched back close to Pandora. "Did you get what you needed?" she asked.

"Yes, it's a bomb, a pretty sophisticated one, maybe not of this world. Radio signaling device. They don't plan to be nearby when it goes off. I'm sorry Pandora, but I need to get involved, or else everyone here is likely to die."

He stood up again. "We got off on the wrong foot before."

The man laying bombs around was finished with what he was doing, so this time two gunmen pointed their weapons at him.

"I'm the Doctor. I'm sort of an expert in these things, and you're going about it wrong. I can help. Now, normally, I'd be working to stop you, but I'm on vacation." The one in charge fired a warning shot just left of the Doctor's head, but he stood his ground. "I only want to get you out safely and minimize loss of life."

The leader motioned with his gun. "Get him in the vault. I'm tired of his interruptions."

The bomber approached and put a pistol to the back of his head. He grabbed a handful of his hoodie and forced him forward. The Doctor put his hands up and walked into the vault.

"So, Doctor, what are we doing wrong?" the leader asked sarcastically.

"Well, for one thing," the Doctor said, straightening his hoodie, "You didn't notice when the teller pushed the police alert. They aren't under the counter anymore, they wear them like badges." The men looked at each other, taken aback.

"Look, it's clear you are very professional. Practiced and proficient - it's just that bank robbery isn't what you normally do. That's understandable. Some would say admirable. All it means is that you aren't expecting... that," he said, cupping a hand up to one ear.

The gunmen strained to listen, but nothing happened. The leader still had a clear view of the hostages from where he was standing, and none of them made a move.

The Doctor cleared his throat, embarrassed. He repeated the movement, cupping his ear again. "...that!" he repeated.

Suddenly the phone rang. The Doctor grabbed his lapels with both hands and gave a vindicated smile. "Are any of you hostage negotiation specialists?"

The phone continued to ring as nobody spoke up. "Well, someone had better answer it. They tend to respond with tear gas if no one answers."

"You want me to do it, Boss?" one of the machine-gun-men asked. The teller they had taken into the vault was on the floor in front of him, clutching a large leather-bound bank book to his chest and watching the gunmen anxiously.

"Give me a moment," the boss said, eyes darting back and forth.

"I could take care of that for you, but only if you agree to change your exit strategy," the Doctor offered.

The boss gave him a sour look, walked to the phone and picked it up. "First things first," he said into the receiver. "I'm in charge. Don't act like you are, or people start dying." He listened to the other end for a while then spoke again. "No not yet, but then nobody's done anything too stupid. Demands? First we get what we came here for, then we start listing demands." He turned to eye the Doctor and a sly smile came over his face. "And don't go getting any ideas about rushing the place. I've got one of your boys in here."

The Doctor shook his head and started waving him off.

"You send in any men, or throw in any tear gas, and I promise you, the Doctor dies first." He hung up the phone.

The Doctor sighed exasperated. "I'm not one of their 'boys', and I really wish they didn't know I was in here."

"Sure, Doctor. Now, what do you know of our exit plan?"

"Just that you intend to blow up your hostages and escape in the confusion. Now don't worry, I haven't told anyone, neither of us wants a panic. But this isn't an ordinary heist is it? Tell me, you don't want the money, so what are you here to steal?"

"That, Doctor, is part of the plan you are definitely not getting access to. Now, what do you have to offer?"

"I can make sure you escape cleanly, with the item you came for, and with no loss of life."

The leader was amused, "Alright. I'm not blood-thirsty. Let him show you what he can do." He turned to the teller. "And you! Get back to finding me that box." He walked back out into the lobby, but then stopped at the door. "If the phone rings again, let him answer it. If he says anything funny, shoot both of them and grab another teller."

The teller anxiously placed the book flat in front of him and started scanning rows with his finger.

The two machine-gun-men turned to the Doctor. "Bring me one of the bombs," he said, pulling out his sonic screwdriver.

* * *

Pandora wasn't sure what to do now. The Doctor hadn't given her any instructions, but she knew he wanted her to 'help'. She scooted over a bit while she wasn't being watched, trying to get a view into the vault. If she could tell what the Doctor was doing, maybe she could figure out what she should do. She leaned to the right, glancing around to be sure she was unobserved, and peeked into the vault. The Doctor was holding his palm out flat with his screwdriver laying on it. He was activating it with his other hand and staring at it intently. Unfortunately that told her nothing.

She looked around the rest of the room. Perhaps she could form some sort of resistance. The bank officer was out. The woman that was with him looked the sort though. Pandora watched the gunmen for a safe moment, and edged a step closer to her.

Suddenly there was a high piercing whine that sounded like it was coming from inside her head. She scrunched her eyes up tight and put both hands to her head involuntarily, when suddenly the noise ended. "Sorry about that," came the Doctor's voice in her head. "I couldn't be sure when I'd hit the right frequency unless I could see you react."

Pandora slowly opened her eyes and looked up at the Doctor. He was looking back at her with the screwdriver still laying on the palm of his hand and pointed straight at her.

"The sonic screwdriver can manipulate objects by creating sound waves. Right now I'm vibrating the tiny bones of your inner ear to recreate the sound of my voice." She could see his lips moving, but she heard the voice inside her head.

"Can you hear me as well?" she asked.

"No," came the Doctor's voice again, "but I can read lips pretty well."

"Doctor, I have no idea what to do. You didn't tell me your plan."

"No talking!" yelled the gunman in charge. He came over to stand near her.

"You don't actually have to speak out loud for me to see your lips move," the Doctor's voice reminded her. "What I need you to do is get all the hostages as far from the vault as possible."

"But the bombs are placed all around the windows. Don't we want to stay away from them?" she mouthed. She brought up one hand and rubbed at her nose so the gunman couldn't see her lips move.

"Let me worry about the bombs. But we're going to set one off inside the vault, and I want you to make sure no one gets hurt when the bomb goes off."

"Got it Doctor. I don't suppose you are going to distract them so I can move around freely are you?"

"I don't know if I'll be able to. Just edge closer to them one at a time and pass along the message."

"What the hell are you doing with that thing?" demanded one of the sub-machine-gun men. He leaned in close and watched the blue lights blink along the sides of the sonic. He poked the Doctor with his gun.

The Doctor said, "I'm examining the building structure and its stress points. It is very delicate work, so if you don't push, it will go faster, thank you."

He winked at Pandora and mouthed the words, "Good luck", then turned and scanned the room for real.

He put the sonic between his teeth and knelt next to the bomb. He unzipped the bag and carefully removed the device itself. He scanned it with his sonic and muttered to himself, "What I wouldn't give to have Ace here right now." He looked up and saw one of the sub-machine-gun men watching him suspiciously. "Look, I'm not going to get very far if I don't know what to call you, but you're not likely to tell me your name, so I'm going to call you Frank." He took a breath, but before the man could respond, he went on. "Frank, see that rubbish bin over there? Bring me its lid."

The man looked up to his boss, who shrugged. He went off and soon returned with the lid to the rubbish bin. It was a chromed half sphere of metal with a spring loaded door on one side. The Doctor accepted it and turned it upside down. He sonicked the inside of the door, then laid it flat on the floor. He stood up to regard it for a few moments, then jumped up to land heavily on it, denting the very center. He picked it back up and scanned the interior with his sonic again. Satisfied, he set it down. Then he looked dissatisfied again.

"Frank, " he asked. "I don't suppose you have a pen-knife you'd let me borrow or..." he saw the look in Frank's eye and decided against it. "Probably not..." He looked around and felt his own pockets, then spotted what he wanted on the bank officer's desk. "Ahh!" he exclaimed and walked out of the vault.

The Doctor strode up to the bank officer's desk and picked up a letter opener. He held it up as he passed the boss. "Surely I could do no harm with this?" he asked. The man glowered at him impatiently.

The Doctor looked over the gunman's shoulder at Pandora. She was sitting much closer to the back wall where customers had been on queue. As he watched, she furtively looked his way, then threw a balled up piece of paper at one of the tellers.

The Doctor smiled. "Come on. I've got a bomb over there..." the Doctor reasoned, then turned and walked back to the vault. When he got to the door, he turned and pointed at the boss. After a few moments he said, "You look like a William. William, would you come in here? I think you should see this."

Once William joined them in the vault, the Doctor knelt down and wedged the letter opener into a seam between two carpet squares. He levered up the edge of one, then pulled it the rest of the way off. "There's a tunnel that runs below this vault. I think you knew about it, and you were planning to escape through it, but you were also intending on levelling the bank while you hide safely in the vault, thereby covering your escape." The teller looked up wide-eyed from the ledger he was looking through. Frank noticed and he waved his gun at the man, who quickly began scanning pages of the book again. The Doctor continued. "But you see, if we turn them into shaped charges, you should only need two or three to gain access to the tunnels. Then all you need to do is warp the vault door and no pursuers can follow you out. You don't need to kill anyone." The Doctor placed the bomb on the bare concrete of the vault floor, then covered it with the bin lid. He sonicked the edge all around the lid, then stood up. "Stand back, everyone," he said, and they all moved far back. He pointed the sonic at the bin lid and turned his face away, scrunching his eyes shut. He pressed the button and with a loud explosion, the lid flew up to bounce off the ceiling. When the dust cleared, they could see a hole about two feet deep and just as wide where the bomb had been.

Moments later, the phone rang again. The leader snapped his fingers and pointed at the Doctor. "You answer it. Get rid of them quickly, you've got charges to rig. But if I see anything that doesn't look right, remember I have the detonator, and there are plenty of hostages out there with the explosives."

The Doctor picked up the phone. "This is the Doctor."

"I found it!" yelled the teller suddenly. "Right here! Josephine Jones, box 1127!"

Frank, and the other sub-machine-gun man moved quickly around the room until they found the box with the matching number. The teller produced a key, but they didn't have the matching pair. William moved to the door of the vault and whistled.

The bomb man pulled a long tool from another Velcro pocket of his vest and entered the vault. There were no gunmen left in the lobby, and Pandora waved to the rest of the hostages. "Get back, against the glass!" she whispered loudly. "The Doctor has a plan."

The bomb man stood in front of safe deposit box number 1127 and inserted his tool into one of the locks. He slammed it in hard, the shaft of the tool rotating as it plunged into the lock. He repeated the process with the second lock, then removed the box. As they opened up the box, the Doctor could glimpse its contents. A long, thin, deep-blue crystal, hexagonal and a little wider than one's hand, coming to a point on each end. "Of course," the Doctor whispered. "Though she was Jo Grant when I knew her."

"Doctor, times up. I need those explosives now! Unless you want me to go with 'Plan A'," William threatened.

The Doctor hung up the phone. "Bring me more bin lids!" He knelt down and unzipped three more packages in order and removed the bombs from inside them.

William pushed the teller out into the lobby with the other hostages. The machine-gun-men returned with three more lids. The Doctor handed one of them the letter opener. "Rip up the carpet squares. There, there and there," he said pointing. He took one more reading to be sure those were the right places, then went back to work on the bombs.

He placed the completed bombs on each of the three bare spots, and welded a cover on each, then he stood up, satisfied with his work. William grabbed him by the hood and ushered him out of the vault. "This better work."

The bomb man inspected the Doctor's work and was apparently satisfied. He gave a thumbs up and cleared the vault. Frank closed the vault and stood clear of the door. William removed a Velcro strap from his vest and pulled out a cell phone. He activated it and punched in a code.

The explosion was enormous this time, rocking the building and making the lights flicker. The vault door opened slowly, and a cloud of dust poured out the opening. The sound of the bin lids settling could be heard in the lobby.

The bomb man opened the vault door and peeked inside. He turned back and yelled, "We're good! The tunnel is exposed." The gunmen ran into the vault, and the Doctor hurried to follow them. He scooped up one of the bomb bags and tried to hand it to William. "Blast the door from the inside! It's the only way to ensure our safety."

William smiled an unkind smile. "You know what? Keep it. It's the only way to ensure no one describes our faces. He slammed the vault door and engaged the lock.

The Doctor dropped the bomb and activated his sonic screwdriver, holding it high in the air. He ran to join the other hostages against the glass, still holding it as high as he could reach.

"What are you doing, Doctor?" Pandora asked.

"William is trying to set off all these explosives anyway! I'm trying to disrupt his signal."

"Will it work?" she asked.

"I think so," he responded.

Several seconds went by and they remained unexploded.

"Excellent!" Pandora exclaimed, "The cops'll be able to follow them."

"We don't want the cops following them," he said quietly. "I need to know where they're going, and to do that, we have to let them get there." The Doctor aimed his sonic at the satchel of explosives in front of the vault door and changed the frequency. The door bowed inward with the explosion, and when the smoke cleared, they could see that the frame had cracked.

The windows smashed in at that moment, and there were intensely bright lights and the sounds of explosions, but no heat, no blast. Flash-bang grenades. When they could see again, several heavily armed officers were standing about the room, surprised to find only hostages.


	3. The Alien Menace

What followed was a long period of interviews, punctuated with offers of water or medical or psychological aid. The Doctor kept looking about, certain that he'd see UNIT soldiers come to debrief him, perhaps even Kate Stewart herself, but they never showed.

The Doctor and Pandora were separated, though in a gentle suggestive way rather than forcefully. Neither of them were surprised. With no obvious perpetrators present, it was likely they were hiding amongst the hostages, and they needed to interview everyone separately in order to find flaws in anyone's story. At several points during other people's interviews, the Doctor could see them pointing at him, and he was prepared to be detained, but always afterward he was congratulated for saving their lives. "They all say you were quite the hero."

"Not really... I just gave the thieves an option that didn't involve killing. A hero would have stopped them."

There were reporters amongst the people crowding the barriers. The Doctor nervously watched them do tele spots with bright lights pointed in his direction. He shied away from it as best he could, keeping his hood up, and accepting an offer of a blanket when it was given. But he couldn't escape the constant flashing of camera bulbs that came from every direction he looked.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, someone took their names and addresses and let them go. The Doctor gave the name John Smith, and his residence over on Baker Street. When they later checked on it, they would find someone else living there, but they would verify the house belonged to him.

The Doctor indicated his desire to avoid the press, and he was escorted beyond the barrier by several officers who held back the crowd while he ducked out. Pandora was waiting for him.

"I get the feeling this isn't over," Pandora said.

"Not by a long shot," The Doctor confirmed. "What they stole was a Metebelis crystal, probably the only one on Earth, certainly the only one in London. I'll be able to track it anywhere." He patted his pocket, indicating the sonic screwdriver. "Look, I'm very proud of how you handled yourself in there. I would never have been able to save all those people without your help. Whether they realize it or not, they owe you their lives."

Pandora beamed with pride. "Thanks spaceman. It felt good to get involved. Do some good."

"Yes, well, I was going to offer you another chance. I need to follow those men, and they've proven already that they don't mind killing bystanders. But I'm afraid there's something more dangerous out there. To the average human, a Metebelis crystal is just a pretty rock. If someone has gone to all this trouble to procure one, they likely know of its true value and are therefore not from this planet at all. I may need some assistance again, and I'd like you to come, but only if you are sure you're up for it."

"Why are we still talking about this then, come on," she replied.

"Good," the Doctor said, "I'll need to navigate your tunnels, and I can think of no better guide."

* * *

The gunmen entered the Church of the Eight Truths to find Cardinal Trent anxiously pacing at the altar. He was dressed in the robes they had always seen him in at previous encounters, which had an emblem or icon of a giant spider clinging to the back. The spider itself seemed to be made of some very exotic material because though none of them had discussed it, it was very hard to see when you were looking right at it, it could only be seen from the corner of one's eye. They also had never discussed the fact that each of them, at one point or other had been sure they had seen it move.

"Were you followed?" Cardinal Trent asked when he saw them.

"No. We took the tunnels, like you said, and we laid low for a couple hours to be sure we weren't followed."

"Do you have it?" Cardinal Trent said impatiently.

"Yes we have it," William replied. "You have our payment?"

"Give it to me!" Cardinal Trent demanded, ignoring William's question. "I need to see it! I need to feel it!" There was an odd, slightly higher pitched echo to his voice, that certainly wasn't there a moment ago.

The Doctor and Pandora entered through a side door. The Doctor held a finger to his lips and crept forward, keeping low behind a row of pews. They could see the bomb man pull the small black bag from his vest and remove the blue crystal from it. The cardinal seemed ridiculously excited by the sight of it.

"Doctor?" Pandora whispered, tugging on the hem of his hoodie. "Does that priest guy have a spider on his back?" She kept trying to get a better look at it, but she lost it every time she focused on it.

"Yes, or rather, an 'Eight Leg'. They find the term 'spider' offensive. No, I'm afraid all that is left of that priest is a shell of a man, his mind hollowed out by the psychic energies of the creature on his back. That's the thing doing the talking."

"Okay, that's not possible. Spiders don't grow that big, they don't talk, and they aren't psychic. Now, I've gone with your spaceman schtick, and I can accept your magic 'do-everything' screwdriver and that wireless e-ink card you've got there because you're doing good things, but I draw the line at giant psychic spiders."

The Doctor grabbed Pandora by the arm and lead her into a dark alcove. "You don't have to accept all that, at least not right now, but you need to be able to do this. Alright? I either need you safely elsewhere, or helping here. In or out. Now's the time. Exit is that way."

Pandora was obviously conflicted. In the end, she nodded, though tears were welling up in her eyes. "I've got a thing about spiders..."

The Doctor smiled. "Doesn't everybody?" He squeezed her shoulder and turned to sneak back into the church proper. Pandora followed on hands and knees.

The bomb man had handed the crystal carefully to William, who now held it out in front of the Cardinal. The Cardinal gingerly took it from William, and held it between the fingers of both hands, barely breathing.

"Where's our payment?" William demanded again.

The Cardinal laughed, his voice now wholly higher in pitch. "Oh, you will be paid. You will be made rulers of the Earth!"

He carried the crystal slowly toward a tabernacle at the center of the altar. He opened it, swinging the front and both sides outward to reveal a chamber lined with mirrors. In the center was a tree branch covered in silvery filaments. The top of the tree branches were wrapped in gold wires, and he placed the crystal in the center of it.

The crystal started to glow and pulsate. The Cardinal exalted, and spoke with the voice of the Eight Leg. "How long have I waited. How long have I been without my sisters? How long have I tended to my eggs? And when they hatched... To imagine! Just... spiders!" he spat. "But now with the power of the Metebelis crystal, focused and reflected through my carefully constructed tabernacle, they will reach their true size and potential! They will take their rightful place as humanity's overlords!"

The Cardinal seems to catch himself. He turned to his men. "And you, as my loyal... employees... will be elevated to stand as hosts, and be placed as leaders around the world! You will be praised, respected, worshipped!"

The Doctor stepped out of hiding. "Enslaved! Duped! Used! Eaten! Hello William, remember me?"

The men, well trained as they were, already had guns pointed at him.

The Doctor spoke quickly. "Remember how I helped you before? You were pointing guns at me then too."

"Kill him!" the Eight Leg screams.

"Don't, " the Doctor said, holding one finger out toward William. He paused to be sure they weren't going to shoot. "What's the matter, Queenie? Did you think controlling people's minds would be easy once you had the crystal? How long were you without one? 30 years? 40?" He paused. "It's going to take some time to come back. Those muscles have been atrophying. So, William, what do you think of that big old spider on your boss's back, eh? Want one of your own? Because that's what's on offer here."

"We are not spiders, we are eight-legs!" the Cardinal screamed.

"I'm sorry, who am I talking to? Cardinal Biggles here, or that enormous arthropod clinging to him? Frankly, neither. I'm talking to my friend William over here. William, do you see what's in that shrine up there? Where he put that crystal he so desperately needed? Look closely."

The other gunmen gathered around William and the four of them slowly crept toward the tabernacle. The filaments resolved themselves to be cobwebs as the four could now see tiny spiders, no more than a centimeter across running across the webbing and climbing over the crystal. William looked questioningly at the Doctor.

"They are growing as we speak. Before long, they will be large enough to climb on your back the way their mother clings to your boss. They will hollow out your mind and replace your thoughts with their thoughts. It is true that you would rule, but it would really be one of those running your living-dead husk like a marionette. Can't you feel them? Tiny voices in your head that you've never heard before, scratching at the inside of your skull? They are growing, and they are getting stronger. Soon, you will feel a voice that you can't disobey and you will belong to her."

"Kill him!" the Eight Leg screamed again. This time the Cardinal was staring into William, and he was shaking with effort. William slowly raised his shotgun, surprise and terror on his face as he tried not to. The shotgun raised, and William turned toward the Doctor.

Quick as a flash, the Doctor's sonic was in his hand, and he held it up next to his face. "Let go of him, Queenie, or I will destroy your crystal!" he threatened. "Your children will be no more than spiders, and you will lose what you have so recently regained." William raised the shotgun to his shoulder. The Doctor pointed his sonic at the crystal. "Let go of him now!"

The Cardinal turned toward the Doctor. "No!" he yelled. William took a step backward and shook his head as if to clear it. He lowered the gun.

Suddenly, the Doctor cried out in pain and fell to his knees. He put both hands to his head, dropping the sonic. "No!" he yelled. "You will not have my mind!"

Pandora dove out from behind the pew where she had been hiding, and grabbed the Doctor's sonic. She pointed it at the crystal and felt around for the activation button.

"No!" the Cardinal yelled. He reached out for Pandora. "Kill her!" he yelled.

Pandora found the button and pressed, hoping the sonic was set to the right frequency to vibrate the crystal apart. It made its buzzing noise, slowly gaining in pitch. The Cardinal grabbed her outstretched wrist, and the Doctor grabbed the hem of his robe, still wincing with the pain, but pulling with all his might.

The crystal cracked, and the light went out of it. There was a screaming sound in everybody's head that faded quickly, and was gone.

"You stupid girl!" the Cardinal shouted. He drew back a hand to slap her.

A gunshot sounded. The Cardinal screamed and fell to his knees. He looked down at his chest. Pin pricks of red started to soak into his robe, growing larger and spreading out to cover his chest. A look of shock covered his face as he lifted it to look Pandora in the eyes. "Thank you," he said weakly, and fell over. There were eight individual legs clinging to the man's back, the central mass of the spider was completely destroyed by the shotgun blast.

The Doctor stood up and put both hands over Pandora's outstretched hand. The sonic stopped buzzing, and he took it from her.

There was the sound of the shotgun cocking, and the expended plastic shell bouncing across the stone floor of the church. The Doctor and Pandora turned to find the four men levelling their weapons at them. "Oh, come on!" the Doctor cried in frustration. "We save your lives and you point your guns at us!" He turned to Pandora. "See, this is just like Barrophine all over again. It's not bloody worth it. I should have just let you die. Only next time I want to visit the Louvre, the Earth is being run by the Eight Legs, and where am I then?"

"You've seen our faces. And now we've killed a man," Frank said regretfully.

"A load of people have seen your faces, and they are talking to sketch artists, not us. And you didn't kill the man, you set him free. You killed a monster, and my conscience is clean on that one."

William lowered his gun and put out his hand. "They aren't going to turn us in." The men lowered their guns and started packing up their things and wiping down anything they've touched. William looked up and saw that the Doctor and Pandora were still there. "Don't suppose that offer of 500,000 pounds is still on the table."

The Doctor gave a sad smile and shrugged. "It was a bluff. I haven't got a farthing."

William nodded. He shooed them off. "You better get going. Just because I didn't kill you doesn't mean I trust you. I don't want you seeing where we go when we leave."

The Doctor nodded. "Come on Pandora. It's a long walk back to Angel Court."

* * *

Later that night, the Doctor walked pensively through Hyde Park. The people had long gone, and he was alone with his thoughts. He wandered the crisscrossing paths, but he knew his ultimate destination, and after a while, he made up his mind and headed directly for the Tardis.

When he got there, she was standing silently, surrounded by nature, beautiful in the moonlight. "Hello, Lovely," he said. He unwrapped a sweet and popped it in his mouth, then contemplated the wrapper for a while, listening to the sound it made as he rubbed it between his fingers. "We've always had a bit of an understanding. You don't always take me where I want to go, but usually where I need to be."

A breeze went through the trees, and he watched the way it made the leaves move.

He looked back at the Tardis. "But where I _needed_ to be this time, was somewhere peaceful. Somewhere homey, somewhere safe. I chose Earth, yes, and London, but you put me down in the middle of another hostile incursion that was none of my business. And maybe you've forgotten, but they killed me once before."

He started to walk around the Tardis now. "And I know what your thinking. I needed something like that to snap me out of it. Be the man you know I am. I'd make friends, find a new companion, and get excited about showing her the stars." He came around to the front again. He reached into one of his many pockets and pulled out the Tardis key. "This is the part where I'd show her to you. She'd be amazed at how much bigger you are on the inside, and she'd have no idea, because you are so much more than the console room... And you'd both get so excited, and the next thing you know we'll be off on another adventure, and I'll be saving people again. Back to normal. Back to myself."

He stood silently, tossing the key in the air and catching it again.

"But I want you to see this, so you'll understand." He held up the key again between thumb and forefinger in front of the Tardis windows. Then he hauled back his arm and threw the key as far as he could. It went sailing over the Tardis and disappeared into the distance, landing somewhere, hidden in grass.

"I am not going anywhere with you. You do not decide what lessons _I_ need to learn. And if I _ever_ decide to come back to you, it will be because _I_ have somewhere _I_ need to be, and _you_ will take me there!"

The Doctor stood seething and clenching his fists. After a while, he decided there was nothing more to say, and he turned his back on his Tardis and walked away.


End file.
